


In|Servitude Trilogy Book 1

by ebonynemesis



Series: In|Servitude [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Cults, Ensemble Cast, Feudal-Japan!Au, Grimdark, Japanese Mythology & Folklore, M/M, Multi, Murder Mystery, Whodunnit, antagonistic rivals, politics and discourse, references to other pairings - Freeform, student-teacher dynamics
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-15
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:20:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25879561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ebonynemesis/pseuds/ebonynemesis
Summary: Shikamaru elucidates, Naruto burgeons, Neji endures, Kakashi repents. No one is born into this vitiated world without pain, yet we all suffer alone.When Shikamaru finds his sensei Asuma dead apparently by suicide, he knows something is deeply wrong, and is determined to find out how the tragedy came to be—even at the behest of the court, the nobles and everyone else (including his own family).Feudal-Japan!AU with minor supernatural elements and a lot of angst.
Relationships: Hatake Kakashi/Kyuubi | Nine-tails | Kurama, Hatake Kakashi/Uzumaki Naruto, Hyuuga Neji/Nara Shikamaru
Series: In|Servitude [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1877968
Comments: 12
Kudos: 40
Collections: WIP Big Bang 2020





	1. PROLOGUE

**Author's Note:**

> Detailed blurb below: 
> 
> In order to find out the truth behind his sensei Asuma’s supposed suicide, Shikamaru, the young heir of the Nara clan, will turn over each stone and uproot every tree in the land; even if it means risking his family’s reputation and safety by losing the grace of the bakufu and possibly the entire shogunate; even if it means exacerbating the already antagonistic rivalry between Naruto, adopted son and heir to Lady Tsunade of Senju, and Sasuke, the youngest son of Uchiha, the two most prestigious clans in the capital; even if it means repeatedly clashing with Hyuuga Neji, the young and dogmatic bushi, who looks down upon Shikamaru for his humble origins and detests him for his reckless disregard for the courts and the customs alike.
> 
> But some stones should be left unturned, for they conceal deep secrets: secrets regarding Naruto’s true lineage, and the mysterious power that lies deep within Hyuuga compound, secrets that are little more than rumours of a terrible demon awoken decades ago capable of destroying all that walks on the earth, secrets that Naruto’s sensei Kakashi has sacrificed almost everything to keep hidden and out of sight from the bakufu and the shogun. 
> 
> As his investigations continue and more deaths of those who know the secrets start occuring, Shikamaru finds himself at the vortex of a turbulent era that draws himself, his family and allies and rivals alike into an inevitable war that might just alter the very fabric of society. 
> 
> Book 1 of a trilogy loosely based off of late Tokugawa period Japan with supernatural elements.

The dying heat of the funeral pyre dissipated in the morning fog. The priests handed Shikamaru the urn, heavy with ash. Shadows, cast by the clouds gathering against a reddening sky, ghosted over the long procession. Shikamaru watched as the priests lit the incense in their footsteps as he followed them and the billows of smoke down the sloped path along the ridge of the mountain, their geta made even taps on the stone steps. Behind him, his mother, white shroud covering her dark hair, her hand clutching the bowl of rice in which the ihai was semi-buried, let out a solitary sob which was quickly swallowed up by the mountain air.

Shikamaru bowed his head as the chanting began. The ground glowed as the dewy earth caught the early sun's rays. Shikamaru turned his gaze away from the ground, from the procession, from the solemn crowd that had gathered beyond the torii at the foot of the mountain, towards the sky, where his favourite clouds, in brilliant shades accompanying the rising of another day, slowly became vectored by darkness.

* * *

He was seven, small for his age, especially obvious when standing next to Choji and Ino, who both hit growth spurts that year. But his hair jutted up above them, spiky as a foreign fruit, as they pushed through the crowd in order to watch the arrival.

Shikamaru thought they would come in sedan-chairs, hoisted by eight strong men. Instead, in a cloud of stirred dust and clacking hooves, they arrived on the biggest horses Shikamaru had seen in his life. To his seven-year-old eyes they were like temples on moving stilts, the stirrups like giant steps, the tail of the riders' robes like the flaps of the shide streamers, billowing with the gusts of dust and noise.

The adults had been talking about it for weeks—a royal family, the great warrior prince himself—was coming to the sleepy village of Nara. His mother had woken him up extra early that morning and made him wear a yukata instead of his usual jinbei. She also took extra care taming his locks into the single ponytail, gathering the scraggly strands and sweeping his temples with oil.

And, hands behind his head and smelling like grease, squashed by Ino and Choji on either side, Shikamaru couldn't help but feel annoyed: half of him wanted to see this prince who had caused so much hassle in his village, the other half of him just wanted to go back to his house and take a nap, considering how he couldn't see anything anyway with all the dust and hooves and…

Silence washed across the crowd. The people, who were pushing and shoving just moments ago, seemed to have stilled in unison. The dust cleared to reveal stern-looking guards in identical armour flanked on each side of the main road. Shikamaru was small enough to squeeze through and crawl under the legs of the horses but for some reason he knew better than to do so. In the distance, the sound of another horse's unhurried gait grew steadily with each clop of the metal hoof.

That was his first impression of Asuma, on his golden steed, armoured and glorious like one of those people painted on the scrolls hanging in the formal galleries. He bore the royal colours of gold-trimmed-black, his beard dense and dark, connecting with his sideburns. And Shikamaru thought he saw him as well, in that instance, his mouth widening into a grin as he chewed on the end of a grass stick.

* * *

His mother came to him on the third day after the funeral.

'We are to depart,' she said.

Shikamaru looked at her with reddened eyes and stubbornly refused to move.

Yoshino sat down next to where he was kneeling on a rattan. 'My son,' she said, 'I understand the profundity of your pain but the dictate of our lord shogun mandates us—'

'Mother,' Shikamaru said, 'They burned him.'

'Oh my son.'

'They took him and cremated him, like a commoner.'

Yoshino waited for him to continue.

'And it hasn't even been three days, three full days, and we are expected to travel to the capital with his ashes, all because—' Shikamaru bit his lips.

Yoshino patted his shoulder, and waited until Shikamaru collected himself, rubbed his eyes, and looked up at her.

'Mother, do you think, there might be more to his death?'

'No.'

Shikamaru stared at her open-mouthed, shocked by the bluntness of her response.

'I examined the body myself, Shikamaru. And you checked the room where he was found more than a dozen times.'

Shikamaru swallowed. 'But isn't there—?'

Yoshino gave him a look, shaking her head, 'We do not have the luxury to entertain further speculation at this moment, my son, not in our position.'

Shikamaru gaped at her, incredulous.

'But aren't you even a little bit put off by the fact that never before has Asuma-sensei ever showed signs where he might—?'

'Asuma-sama reached an honourable end for a man of his stature, Shikamaru. We cannot afford to start constructing theories that might question the integrity of Asuma-sama's end which might compromise the honour of our clan simply due to the existence of certain theories.'

Shikamaru jumped up from his rattan, 'How could you say something like that? Are you really selfish enough to value the 'honour of our clan' over the truth of how one man's life came to an end?'

'Shikamaru, you are speaking out of line.'

Shikamaru glared at his mother, pale faced and heaving: 'Out, of, _line_? My sensei is dead, mother, in an atrocious and undignified way, and no one is talking about it. No message from the capital, or father, or the courts. He was a prince! And he was cremated in our little village shrine with no one there to say good—'

Yoshino opened her arms. 'Shikamaru, come here.'

He allowed her to guide him to cry into her dark robes in silence.

After the shaking had subsided, Yoshino took Shikamaru's face within her hands, 'My son, you are a good boy, and you cared deeply for Asuma-sama. The fact that he had you to send him off meant more than any of those honours that belonged to a prince of his stature. It's not that mother does not care,' the lines around her eyes have deepened in the past few days, making her look years older, 'the truth is I am not in a position to do so. Your father has already started his journey from the capital and we must hasten in order to meet him at Saikyo. You know the way of the courts. We will bring your sensei with us. I'm sorry I cannot give you more time to mourn.'

Shikamaru wiped his face furiously, nodding as he sat back, straightening his robes.

'Ino will be there to help you pack your things, be ready by dawn. Shikamaru, a tragedy has befallen our house, I fear it may be even more dire than the death of Asuma-sama under our roofs.'

Shikamaru shook his legs out after his mother had departed. He had not moved in three days in front of Asuma-sensei's shrine, all the circulation had become stilted in his body. He looked at Asuma's name on the plaque. It still felt unreal, like a bad joke, or a bad dream.

* * *

'I'm not going there to _sell_ clothes, Ino.'

'Hey, stop taking the stuff _out_ of your trunks!' Ino snapped when Shikamaru pulled out a green kariginu robe and tossed it aside.

'When would I ever have an occasion to wear this? I'm not a court performer, same goes for this, nor this, nor this—'

'Stop it Bakamaru!' Ino swatted Shikamaru on the side of his head. 'So what do you suppose? Run around the bakufu in bare-feet and jinbei like a fisherman?'

Shikamaru cradled his head where Ino had hit him. 'I just don't understand how you can concentrate on something like this when Asuma-sensei is dead.'

Ino chucked a box at his head, Shikamaru yelped. 'Ouch, that hurt! Why are you always so violent, Ino-aho?'

Ino bit her lips, giving him a glare, before refolding the articles of clothing Shikamaru had pulled out of the trunk and shoving them back in with a lot more force she had used prior.

Shikamaru, realising he probably spoke out of line, sat back and scratched his head self-consciously. 'I just don't think an occasion will arise for me to wear something this troublesome. I mean, I can't even get myself into this get-up and I'm too old to ask mother for help.'

Ino paused, stroking a particularly intricate lapel embroidered with praying-mantis. 'He wasn't just your sensei, Shikamaru, he was my sensei as well, and our ouji-sama.'

Ino blinked as she looked away. 'Sometimes, I think it's a dream. I think that if I pinch myself hard enough I'll wake up. Those are the kinds of dreams I hate the most, the ones I can't wake up from—even good ones.'

Shikamaru studied her carefully. Her face betrayed nothing. 'Do you also think it's not just suicide?'

Ino thinned her lips. 'I heard about the fight you had with Yoshino-obasan, Shikamaru. I hope you don't hold it against her that she chose not to investigate.'

Shikamaru's eyes widened. 'So you _do_ think there's something strange going on.'

'Of course I do, Shikamaru. Who do you think you're talking to?'

Shikamaru frowned, 'But Inoichi-jii said that—'

'—That we've put that life behind us, yes. But just because we're no longer in active service doesn't mean our observation abilities have lessened. Asuma-sensei was reserved, but never withdrawn, and he had been out-of-favour of the courts for years, yet had never shown it to be a cause for his despair.'

Shikamaru nodded along, crawling closer so he could lower his voice. 'That's exactly my concern: nothing about this makes any sense! We were playing shogi the evening before and he was joking about finally being able to catch a decent carp in our rivers. Then come morning, he's dead. The way he was hung, it was—'

'I know, Shikamaru, you don't need to describe it to me.'

'I'm sorry,' Shikamaru said, 'I didn't mean to talk about it in that way. But Ino, it's just so unlike him to do that. Even, even if he did want to go in that way, he would've chosen another—' He clenched his fist, 'Yet, mother forbade me to speak of it, told me that we cannot afford to look into it.'

Ino covered the clothing with a dust cloth before closing the trunk. 'All the things you said, I've thought of it as well: including the lack of a suicide note, and the way he was found. It's obvious to anyone who knows Asuma-sensei but a little bit that none of the circumstances are even remotely like something sensei would do. Yoshino-obasan isn't blind to all of this, Shikamaru, nor is she not astute enough to not have noticed.'

'Then why did she say those things to me!?'

'Shikamaru,' Ino turned to him. 'You have to stop thinking like a bumpkin from Nara. Who stands to benefit from sensei's death? He's a prince, Shikamaru, he has many enemies who can't wait to see him go.'

Shikamaru felt a bristle at the look on Ino's face, under the deep shadows cast by the candlelight her lips thinned and her eyes hardened, making her look years older, almost like she was in another generation.

'My father told me the answer to every intrigue lies in intent. And to ask why in every situation, so why do you think, someone wanted Asuma-sensei to appear to die from suicide, and also be found in this manner on the estate?' Ino asked.

Shikamaru felt a bristle run down his spine. 'They mean to—'

Ino nodded, 'Yes. And Yoshino-obasan can't afford to let her enemies in the dark find out about consequences of these inherent threats and gain more ground on them. So no matter how much she suspects it, she, as the current reigning head of the estate and Shikaku-ojisan's representative, cannot do anything else but to assert that Asuma-sensei's death is anything but suicide.'

'But who would want to do that? Did they just need someone to take the blame and the Nara happened to be marked by the black hand of fate?'

Ino shook her head. 'I don't know, and I don't know enough about the courts to find out, but you can.'

She grabbed Shikamaru's forearm. 'If you truly believe him wronged, like I do, Shikamaru, then you must make this the your sole purpose for the trip.'

Shikamaru looked into her eyes. 'This is why you wanted me to bring all these.' He gestured towards the clothing.

Ino nodded. 'Yes, convince Yoshino-obasan to introduce you at court, get to know the key players, find out what's going on, and avenge the death of our sensei.' Ino has wrinkled the embroidered material in her hands with the strength of her grasp. Shikamaru realised that these trivial tasks might mean much more than servile duties to her.

* * *

The trees lightened at the tips as the sun rose behind them, shining through the thinning foliage. Shikamaru cradled Asuma's plaque against his front as he rode at the head of the procession, keeping his horse slow paced in consideration for the carriages behind him. His mare was lethargic, indicative of an oncoming hot morning. Shikamaru stroked the chestnut mane beneath the reins and pulled to a stop so he could ride beside his mother's carriage.

Yoshino asked for the procession to come to a stop and beckoned for Shikamaru to join her in the carriage.

'I apologise for my earlier outburst mother, I spoke without consideration.'

Yoshino rustled her scrolls which she was examining, without looking up, she said: 'You never need to apologise for genuine display of emotion, my son. But I do wish for you to be less impulsive.'

She handed Shikamaru a yellowing chart, 'Here, double check these calculations for me.' She offered an abacus to which Shikamaru refused with a raised hand.

Half way down the page Shikamaru looked up, 'what is this mother?'

'Tributary,' Yoshino replied, 'for the quarter.'

'This much gold, mother?' Shikamaru paled, 'that's four times the amount we usually hand over for the year.'

'Here, this one as well.' Instead of responding, Yoshino handed another sheet to Shikamaru.

Shikamaru double-checked the calculations, making no markings for corrections with his charcoal. 'This is all correct, mother, I—'

'Are you certain, my son? Please examine them in detail.'

Shikamaru set the papers down from his hand. 'Why do you always do this? You and father, you never talk to me in direct ways. I'm always playing the guessing game as to your intentions.'

Yoshino did not lift her head as she held out her hand, 'Did you double check the silk and spices, Shikamaru?'

Shikamaru gripped the pages tight before handing it back to her. 'Yes mother, I did.' He said, resigned to receive no response about his earlier expressed sentiment.

'And the seal-pelts and ink-stones?'

Shikamaru shoved his hands under his armpits as he crossed his arms, 'I've memorised all the items and amounts mother.'

'Good,' Yoshino nodded, finally lifting her head to look at Shikamaru, 'you will be the one to report to your father upon the arrival at Saikyo.'

Shikamaru froze, before he swallowed. 'Mother, by that do you mean—?'

'It's time, Shikamaru.' Yoshino reached forward and touched his hand. 'We need you to be involved. Unlike the trips we took to the capital previously, where you may spend idle days enjoying and exploring the city in peace, you will be taking on the responsibilities from me and your father, starting with handling of the tributaries. Shikamaru, listen to me, you need to keep your eyes open and your ears perked on this trip. Do you understand?'

Shikamaru bit his lips, 'Mother I—'

'You can no longer remain a child, Shikamaru.' Yoshino sounded almost apologetic in her refrained, lowered voice.

Shikamaru leaned forward. 'Does this mean that you and father will start telling me what's going on?'

Yoshino straightened her kimono as she put away her papers, and lifted the flap of the carriage curtain to look at the rural scenery outside. Just when Shikamaru was determined that she wouldn't be giving him a response, she said, in a voice so quiet and contemplative it almost sounded like she was talking to t the scenery of pastures slowly ascending along the slopes of the hills and disappearing into the treeline in the distance: 'In good time.'

Shikamaru felt himself in no place to question her further.


	2. 1.1 Shikamaru

PART 1 Shikamaru

Chapter 1

Rain-clouds rose like smoke above the blackened outline of the ruined city. The congregation that greeted them outside reinforced and heavily-guarded gates had both familiar and unfamiliar faces. Shikamaru spotted his father's slight figure adjacent to the pale head of Inoichi and Inoichi's equally pale horse.

Shikamaru bowed and greeted his father, who took Asuma's ihai from him solemnly. Shikaku covered his face with the sleeve of his black kimono. The pebbles beneath Shikamaru's feet felt like they were going to roll away, he didn't remember another time when he had seen his father cry.

After a while, Shikaku straightened and received his wife, as Inoichi patted Shikamaru's shoulder. 'My condolences, Shikamaru.'

Shikamaru remembered Ino's determined eyes when she requested for Shikamaru's help and dropped his head. 'Inoichi-jii, my father, is he going to be alright?'

Inoichi looked almost surprised at Shikamaru's question before squeezing his shoulder. 'You are a good boy, Shikamaru. Don't worry, your father is going to be fine. I'll be there to help him.'

Shikamaru nodded as his father beckoned him. 'Shikamaru, come here.'

He walked over. Shikaku gestured to the two figures beside him. 'This is lord Naruto, of Namikaze, adopted son to Lady Tsunade, and this is bushi Neji of Hyuuga, on appointment by our lord shogun.'

They exchanged greetings.

Naruto, whose outlandish golden-blond hair framed a warm, friendly face that was much too young for someone bearing the title of 'Lord of Namikaze', greeted Shikamaru with a firm handshake. 'It's a pleasure to see you again Shikamaru, unfortunate as the circumstances may be. Asuma-sama's passing was a great loss to us all, and I'm truly sorry.' He said, as Shikamaru returned his handshake and bowed his head to thank him for his kindness.

By stark contrast, Neji of Hyuuga was traditionally striking: with jet-black hair that hung straight and loose down his back, the ends grazing his wrist, and dark eyes which look almost painted on his paper-white skin. He gave Shikamaru a slight nod with one hand resting on the hilt of his standard military-issue daisho, the sheath of which was as black as his hair and almost as straight as his back.

Shikamaru turned back to Naruto. 'I remember us playing as children, Naruto-sama. It is surprising to be reintroduced to you as a lord and the successor of Lady Tsunade.'

'We're old acquaintances, Shikamaru, just call me Naruto.'

Beside him, Neji made a small noise that was not quite a scoff. But when Shikamaru glanced his way, the bushi's mouth was closed in a tight line and the mask of neutrality had not left his face.

Shikamaru smiled, 'I have often heard of the revered Hyuuga clan, it is an honour to meet one in person.'

Neji's face tightened into a slight frown. 'I am a bushi under the command of our respected tono, master Shikamaru, and am to escort you to the capital along with the— _tributaries_.' The last word was spoken out with such despise that Shikamaru was surprised the bushi didn't just spit out the syllables.

Deciding to disregard the bushi's blatant rejection at his extension of friendship, Shikamaru turned back to his father. 'Father,' he asked, 'How long would we be staying here before we continue onto the capital?'

Shikaku shook his head. 'Oh no, Shikamaru, Naruto-sama and Neji-dono are here as the representative of the bakufu and the shogun himself. It is the intent of our lord shogun that Asuma-sama's remains be interred in the royal tombs, here, at Saikyo.'

Shikamaru paled, 'But the mausoleum is in the capital.'

Shikaku merely nodded. Shikamaru looked to the others, Naruto was looking at Shikaku, and Neji looked almost smug with his firmly held nonchalance.

'He's a warrior, father. He deserves his place in the bushi mausoleum .'

Neji adjusted his daisho, the metal guard clinking as it knocked against the rim of the sheath. 'Tono's condition of exile does not disappear after the death of the subject, master Shikamaru.'

Shikamaru's face tensed. 'Are you referring to the incident when our lord shogun asked Asuma-sensei to be stationed at Nara? That was an assignment, not an exile.'

'I was present for said incident, and tono's exact words were _'Get out of my city and never return.'_ '

Shikamaru squared his shoulders but did not quite reach up to a height where he could be level with Neji's eyeline" 'It was a disagreement, Neji-dono. Asuma-sensei doesn't warrant to be denied his place amongst his comrades just because of a disagreement.'

'Are you questioning the judgement of our respected tono?' One of Neji's eyebrows quirked as he asked with almost incredulity, like it was something amusing. Shikamaru suppressed his urge to punch Neji in the face. 'Or are you denying Asuma-sama's heritage as ouji?'

Shikamaru gritted his teeth, 'I know better than anyone else that my sensei believes his place to be amongst the bushi than his heritage of a no-longer relevant—'

'That's enough, Shikamaru.' Shikaku interjected, 'it was the expressed decision of our lord shogun. We are to obey the wishes of their—'

' _Obey_!' Shikamaru turned to his father, his whole body shaking. 'Obey their wishes to erase Asuma-sensei's legacy and contribution to the peace of this land and bury him beside this charred ruins of a city instead!'

'Shut your mouth and kneel, Shikamaru.' Shikaku ordered.

Shikamaru's mouth hung open at Shikaku's harsh words, staring at his father in disbelief.

'Must I physically force you, Shikamaru? Kneel.'

Reluctantly, Shikamaru got on one knee, then both, still in shock at his father's remand.

'The Nara are first and foremost loyal to the shogun and the courts, Naruto-sama.' Shikaku turned to Naruto, said, 'Forgive my son for he has forgotten had been taught to him of the proper manners of the court.'

The ground beneath his knees was hard and rocky and Shikamaru could feel bruises beginning to form on the joint. He stared at his father, searching to meet the man's eyes, but the latter was bowing to Naruto. Failing that, he looked to his mother, who was staring off into the distance. The only person who met his gaze was Inoichi, who responded with the slightest shaking of his head.

Shikamaru dropped his head, his face burning, a lump pushing behind his jaw as he swallowed hard but could not rid of the pressing sensation.

'I am certain Neji-dono and myself have no doubts as to the faithfulness of your clan, lord Shikaku,’ Naruto said, pointedly looking to Neji. 'Shikamaru's grief is understandable. After all, Asuma-sama was Shikamaru's sensei.'

'Still,' Neji protested, 'the will of the Shogun must not be challenged so trivially by—'

'Neji, do I have to beat you up again?' Naruto said. Shikamaru's head whipped up at the casual form of address and noticed a slight blush creeping up Neji's cheeks as the bushi whipped his head away.

Naruto smiled, his face open and easy, as he turned back to Shikaku, 'Lady Yoshino must be tired from the journey. Lord Shikaku, let's retire for the day and prepare for a fresh and early start tomorrow for we have much to do.'

In Shikamaru's mind, Naruto had been an uncouth and almost uncivilised child, who, despite his big heart, had very little tact. This young and capable lord in front of him was almost a stranger by contrast.

Shikaku nodded and bowed. 'Your kindness is noted, Lord Naruto.' He turned and instructed the parties to move the carriages towards the gates of the city before turning to Shikamaru. 'Maa, Shikamaru, you have much to reflect on the error of your ways, which for you would be best done right here, and don't think to get up until you have sufficiently thought through what I had said.'

Shikamaru stared at the ground. The carriages, rolling towards the inn which was to accommodate the nobles from the capital and Nara, flung dust into Shikamaru's eyes. Shikamaru felt the sting of hot tears behind them, and stubbornly refused to attribute it to anything else other than the irritating dirt.

* * *

By the time the sun had set, a layer of soot had settled on Shikamaru's robe due to kneeling by the ancient path where the intermittent procession of carriages and horses passing him stirred up the dirt. The sunset painted the sky a bruising purple, set against the erose and opaque darkness that was the silhouette of Saikyo. Shikamaru waited until the light from the commercial area outside the city walls glittered amber in the distance before standing to walk along the path towards the glittering lights, where the inns were located.

Saikyo was once called by another name. Due to its location upon the plains of the west, it had always been and continued to be a bustling hub of commercial activity. Once upon a time, in a previous dynasty, it had even been a capital. Despite the terrible fire that razed the city to the ground fifteen years ago, the commerce had rebuilt itself away from the ruins enclosed by three-storey-high walls: the once grand palaces and temples which had become clusters of onyx-coloured broken wood that leaned against each other like pyres, and the once pristine-gardens, which now were nothing but ash.

After the fire, which had rampaged for two weeks before it could be completely doused, the bakufu had poured resources into restoring the city. But the harrowing incident had changed the very earth it stood upon. Accidents which lead to deaths and injuries during the restoration became frequent, and a rumour grew that the ground within the walls was haunted or cursed. Efforts dwindled over the years as the centre of power of the bakufu shifted eastwards, towards the new capital, and the un-restored remains became ruins. The route of the gokaido was instead built to circumvent the expansive ruins, and a new commercial area was established to service the traffic and trade, populated by inns and bathhouses and stores. Guards were stationed around the still-erect walls enclosing the old city in order to prevent innocents from entering and risk harming themselves by venturing into the un-surveyed architecture. And the jagged, corrupted skyline served as a cruel reminder of the long-since-passed grandeur of Saikyo.

The green banners of his family had been erected alongside the official shogun ones outside the gates of the inn they were staying at—a large complex with multiple courtyards that housed both the party from Nara as well as the travellers from the capital and all their consignment. Beside the row of silk-covered carriages, the horses, unleashed and de-saddled, grazed in the warm evening air. Shikamaru stroked his mare before approaching the inn.

He was stopped by a servant at the entrance to his parents' quarters.

'Lord Shikaku had instructed that master Shikamaru is not to disrupt him other than for official business, young master.'

Shikamaru felt the beginning of the familiar headache starting to form whenever he needed to decipher the cryptic language of his parents. 'I wish to see my parents, is that not official business? Am I expected to find separate lodging for myself?'

'My apologies, young master, those were Lord Shikaku's exact words.'

'Well I'm not leaving until he agrees to see me.' Shikamaru crossed his arms.

The servant looked troubled, and Shikamaru felt guilty for one second at having to involve a bystander in this situation, fortunately. Inoichi emerged from the door.

'Shikamaru,' Inoichi said, 'you are to state your official business before entering, those were your dad's exact words. He's confident of your ability to comprehend his instructions.'

Shikamaru scratched his head, 'Why must they make it so troublesome all the time?! It's not like I'm someone else. I'm their son, by right I should be allowed to enter!'

'I can't imagine him or your mother tasking you with something you can't handle.' Inoichi replied.

Those words reminded Shikamaru of his mother's instructions on the journey from Nara, Shikamaru muttered 'troublesome' beneath his breath and thought for a moment, before speaking.

'I understand that the stock for the tributaries has yet to be cleared with Lord Shikaku, and would like to confirm the numbers with him.'

Inoichi paused, before nodding. 'It is better to do so now as other matters would need to be tended to come the morning. Please follow me, young master Shikamaru.'

The courtyard had been embellished with extravagance to accommodate the presence of a daimyo. Pots of lush plants with bulbous branches which blossomed foreign flowers with long thin petals lined along the corridor. _Succulents,_ Shikamaru remembered Choji's father teaching them that word, when he first brought a shipment of them from overseas, and Ino's eagerness to learn more.

His father was seated by a triptych of shoji screens, bent over, studying the shogi-board set up in front of him on the chabudai. He looked at Shikamaru and Inoichi.

'What disruptions do you bring to me so late, Inoichi?'

Shikamaru gritted his teeth as Inoichi responded. 'I'm to understand that master Shikamaru wishes to finalise the numbers for the tributaries with you, my lord.'

Shikaku looked at Shikamaru, 'Was there disputes between the reported and actual numbers?'

Shikamaru bowed. 'No, father, that is not my query.' He looked at Inoichi before continuing, 'I have questions about the amounts, that I wonder if could be discussed in private.'

Shikaku looked at Inoichi and gave him a nod, Inoichi bowed and retreated from the room. The servants followed him until the room was emptied except for Shikamaru and Shikaku.

His father did not look up nor address him for quite a while. As Shikamaru decided to ask, his father spoke up.

'So, have you reflected on the errors of your ways, Shikamaru?'

Shikamaru was still standing by the screen-doors, and for the distance his father looked slighter than he had remembered, like he was further away.

'I have, father.'

'And?'

'I have always displayed disdain whenever you or Inoichi ojii-san tried to teach me the ways of the court' he said, bowing, 'and would like to apologise for my apathy.'

His father did not turn around and look at him. 'Is that all you are sorry for?' He asked. There was no force behind Shikaku's words yet Shikamaru was afraid that his father was going to yell at him again, but Shikaku only sighed deeply:

'Come here, my son.'

Shikamaru looked up at his father, confused, unable to read what was going on in Shikaku's mind. As Shikaku beckoned for him with his hand. 'I'm not going to bite your head off, now come sit before you make it more troublesome for me.'

The lack of anger in Shikaku's voice and his slight exasperation put Shikamaru at ease enough to dust his robe and approach the chabudai. The shogi board was set up with a tsume which Shikamaru had not previously seen. Shikaku indicated for him to sit beside him at the table, instead of opposite him, like they would if they were going to play a match together.

'I leave for Nara tomorrow, after Asuma-sama is laid to rest.' Shikaku said, 'I cannot supervise every action yo make like you were child anymore. What you did today, speaking up like that, what good would it have accomplished? Outside of your own outburst of emotion, you failed to consider so many other things—'

Shikamaru snapped, 'It's not enough, father.'

Shikaku raised an eyebrow.

'Being considerate of our words, adhering to the rules of etiquette.' Shikamaru remembered Neji's smug face and clenched his fists. 'At the end of the day, it's self-serving, but only if the system allows us to survive.'

Shikaku was silent, as Shikamaru continued after realising his father was not going to stop him. 'I know what it means for us to maintain a position of favour within the courts, I know how these nobles from the capital perceive our position as tozama as inferior, that we bought our way into prestige. I do not want to derogate my worth based on their prejudices. Not, not when it concerns the truth behind my sensei's death.'

'Careful how you speak, boy.' Shikaku said harshly.

Shikamaru looked at his father, but the latter was still staring at the puzzle in front of them, and he bit the side of his tongue, and forced himself to calm down. 'Father, Asuma-sensei was a good and loyal friend to Nara, and the two of you were close. You would know, better than anyone else, that he would never take his own life this way.'

A snap accompanied a flicker as one of the wicks on a candle holder crackled, the shadows wavered as Shikamaru waited, every single one of his muscles tensed, but there was no response from his father. So he continued:

'I don't know how it was done, I can't even hazard a guess. But I know that his suicide had been a set up, that there's more going on than the surface of things. And,' He bit his lips, 'I know that there are risks involved in continuing to seek answers. But how could I possibly have a moment of respite without knowing who would want Asuma-sensei dead? And in our household, nonetheless! Father, I am not trying to be insolent, but you can't tell me that nothing is going on! It's simply not the truth!'

Shikaku picked up one of the pieces on the shogi board, 'You say that you know the risks involved, but I question if you truly understand.'

'Father I—'

'You see my avoidance at addressing the matter as unsympathetic, that I am either indifferent or wilfully blind to the blatant scheming at play.'

Shikamaru felt stifled for air, as his father rub his thumb across the piece as he deliberated his next words, and said.

'Shikamaru, what you imagine to be the worst outcome to follow all of this, the truth is that it is likely to be much, much worse.'

Shikaku put the piece down on the exact spot he had picked it up from, and retrieved a piece of folded paper from within his robes.

'Here,' He said, handing Shikamaru the folded parchment, 'I intercepted this before it could get to the bakufu.'

Shikamaru unfolded and read.

'To this unholy yet pitiable world,

'My exiles had been an exercise in pain--separated from my beloved, and unable to see the birth of my child--I no longer wish to be a part of it all. I am a prince who has no power of his own, my agency taken by those who wish to use it against my will. The lords have their own minds and tono would not believe me nor trust my integrity or honour when I tell him of the warships beyond the horizon. I cannot live while possessing the knowledge of the conflagration to come and yet unable to do anything. So in order not to be implicated my family and retain the integrity of my honour I can only take my own life as retribution. Signed the fifth of the eight month…'

Shikamaru's hand quivered as he pinched the paper between his fingers. 'Father this is in Asuma-sensei's hand! But nothing in here is true!'

Shikaku opened his hand for Shikamaru to hand the letter back. Shikamaru did, then crossed his arms, and frowned, trying to tie the information presented together.

'It couldn't have been Asuma-sensei. He wasn't one who saw his own lineage and agency in this way. It's contradictive to its own existence: not only would a letter like this call into question his own loyalty which the letter postulates that he died for, but it would also endanger his family which the letter purports he has.'

Shikaku stood up and approached a candle holder, Shikamaru continued:

'The purpose of this letter is to set up that Asuma-sensei had died at our hands.' He paled, 'This family that Asuma-sensei supposedly has, and the accusations that there are unaccounted for vessels. It's so blatantly directed at us that no one would believe the authenticity of the note for one moment.'

Shikaku, holding the parchment over the flame, turned to look at Shikamaru.

'Would they not? When the circumstances had been so perfectly set up upon initial glance at the situation? Of a rebellious house who out of their own greed and ambition dared to end the honourable life of a out-of-favour bushi who might have discovered their plans. It's not an illogical narrative.'

Shikamaru felt a shiver run down the back of his robes at his father's words. 'But, our house, the prefecture of Nara—we've never had quarrels with Asuma-sensei nor displayed any insubordination—'

Shikaku set the parchment alight. Shikamaru watched the flames consume the sinister words designed to defame his family using his sensei's death.

'Wouldn't, wouldn't the shogun be interested in what actually happened,' He asked over the sound of the paper burning, 'wouldn't he want to know the truth, if indeed it was due to some kind of conspiracy that—'

'Oh Shikamaru, I am afraid that the truth is so fragile a thing too easily manipulated, and as for our tono—' Shikaku shook his head, 'if the shogun trusted Asuma-sama, he would not have exiled him. If he wished to investigate the truth, and give Asuma-sama the closure and justice he so deserved, he would have these abandoned tombs beside this ruin of a city be the final resting place for our ouji-sama.'

His father's words roused a chill deep inside Shikamaru, 'But he's the shogun, he's our leader, and whoever sent that letter is in a way threatening war upon him as well, wouldn't he want to find out what happened?'

'Wouldn't it be easier for him to just kill the suspected? If you were the shogun and had the power to do so, would that not be exactly what you would do?'

Shikamaru felt a cold draft travel up his spine, as his father pushed the final corners of the letter into the flames, the words that dangled a dagger above all of their necks now nothing but ashes.

'How easy do you think, Shikamaru, would it be for the shogun to assume that we took Asuma-sama's previously unknown family hostage and accuse us of trying to dethrone the current emperor? How much more convincing would it be if they also found ships under our merchant fleet and accused them of being warships in disguise?'

'And the sentence to be carried out to us as traitor, Shikamaru, how gruesome do you think our death would be?'

Shikamaru felt his face become tight, his limbs numbing from their extremities. Shikaku sat back down, took a look at the shogi-board, before taking a sip of tea.

'What do we do, father?' Shikamaru asked quietly.

'My priorities are set in stone.' Shikaku said, 'I must return to Nara, be with my people. At a time like this, the fate of our little prefecture hangs in the balance and I must be there to lead.' He began taking the pieces off the board and packing them away without solving the tsume.

Shikamaru watched his father methodically line up the pieces beside the board, as he always does at the end of a game. 'Father, are you truly going to be at peace and accept not knowing the truth behind Asuma-sensei's death? With his killer at large, who is also likely aiming to paint us as traitors, and wants our heads upon pikes on the gates of the capital? For him to remain out there, unknown, in the shadows?'

'What do you propose to do, Shikamaru?' Shikaku asked, looking up from the shogi-board, his eyes boring into Shikamaru's face. 'Given the risk of what could be exposed in the process of pursuing the clues, what would your decision be?'

Shikamaru froze, unable to break away from his father's gaze. Ino's words coming back to him as well as the cold mountain air when he had attended Asuma-sensei's cremation filling him from the inside.

Shikamaru stood up, paced around the room, and thought of the things his father had said. Shikaku waited for his response, his gaze following Shikamaru's shadow on the shoji screen depicting a scene of grazing deer where the outline of their mirroring spiky hairdo danced with the movements of the candles.

'If he was murdered, then, he needs to be avenged!' Shikamaru said, quietly and with as much determination as he could muster, 'If he died of unjust causes then justice needs to be exacted!'

Shikaku was silent. His face, enshrouded by sharp shadows, was impossible to read.

Shikamaru took a deep breath, 'I'm well aware of the risks, father. But if anything, it makes me more determined to get to the bottom of exactly what happened. Our enemies work in the shadows, that letter is the evidence for that. Letting things be is only going to allow our enemy to move outside of our prediction. More than that,' He got on his knees and knelt down by the tea table, facing his father. 'I owe it to Asuma-sama. I would not see my sensei's death become obscured as a mysterious instance in the history books. There is only one version of the truth out there, and I'm determined to discover it, no matter the cost.' He prostrated, touching his forehead to the tatami.

For a silent moment, he could hear nothing aside from the wick of the lamp burning quietly and the distant wind sweeping through the town. An eternity of a moment later, he felt his father's hand on his arm, helping him up.

The lines around his father's eyes made him look deeply sorrowful, as he said: 'I regret that this burden must fall upon you, and even more that I cannot help you shoulder it.'

Shikamaru clutched his father's forearm, his hands shaking. 'I would rather be the one to undertake this task than have it fall upon anyone else. I want to be the person who digs out the snake who did all of this, and I would personally drive the knife of justice through his heart'

His father was shaking his head, 'Shikamaru, this is an endeavour of which I can offer you little assistance. The moment Asuma-sama's death might be tied to our prefecture, even indirectly through the act of questioning the legitimacy of the suicide, it puts the prefecture and our clan at risk. This dangerous path you are to embark on, my child, it would be a solitary one. Neither your mother nor myself could help you traverse the knife's edge that is the courts of the capital.'

Shikamaru nodded eagerly. 'I never expected or wanted any help.'

'If you incur the ire of any lords due to the investigation, if you clash with the existing hierarchy, I cannot extend my hand and help you. You are the only one who would be accountable for the consequences of your actions.'

Shikamaru agreed, 'I will be cautious, father. I understand the risks involved.' He gritted his teeth. 'You and mother have prepared me for this moment.'

In the candlelight his father raised his hand, as if to touch Shikamaru's face, but at the last moment his hand retracted. He closed his eyes, and said: 'Make friends and enemies alike with caution, Shikamaru, and do not trust in the words of anyone, no matter how close you grow to them. From henceforth your journey is one which you will be traversing alone. Know the weight you bear with your actions.'

* * *

His father was the one who placed the ihai amongst the names of strangers whose heritage Asuma had never once considered to be a part of his honour. Behind him, Naruto and Neji bowed and touched their forehead with their hands holding burning incense, as Shikamaru set the bowl of rice in front of the plaque and collapsed upon the ground.

He remembered an afternoon years ago, when Asuma had been teaching him shogi, and Shikamaru insisted a draw was possible before he had memorised all the rules of the game.

Asuma had laughed at first, but when Shikamaru explained himself, he became serious and placed his hand on Shikamaru's shoulder. 'You have a noble heart, Shikamaru, your passion and ideals are pure and you must never betray your heart's desire.'

Prior to that moment, no one had taken Shikamaru's words as anything else other than the rambling of a child. Asuma had been the first to have treated Shikamaru as an equal, and had continued to do so ever since that instance. He had shared with Shikamaru his ambition of seeing the country at peace: a land where no citizen would worry about locking their doors at night, ruled by people who cared about the country instead of themselves. Shikamaru had always envisaged that virtuous leader to be his sensei.

And now his sensei was here, amongst his ancestors who were rulers lost to the past and fallen into obscurity, having been denied that opportunity to be one himself.

Shikamaru let the tears he had been holding back fall upon the black material of his robes that covered his bruised knees, and promised himself that this would be the last time loss overwhelmed him in this way. From this moment onward, his grief would only fuel the furnace of his drive to investigate, to remediate, stopping at nothing until he arrived at the bare truth.

* * *

They said goodbye to his father and Inoichi after the burial. Yoshino's only interaction with her husband was a simple bow which Shikamaru now understood was not nonchalance but a form of restraint. Shikamaru moved to his mother's side and put a hand upon her arm. Yoshino looked at her son, gave him the barest of smiles, and pushed him off.

Shikamaru remained staring at the direction where the horses took his father and company beyond the horizon, until the dust that the hooves had stirred up had settled, before turning to the rest of the party.

'Naruto-sama, I believe we should head for the capital as well.'

Neji stepped forward. 'Is it not my understanding that the tomb should be kept vigil for at least seven days, master Shikamaru, if not forty-nine?'

'We've kept vigil after the burial already, Neji-dono.' Shikamaru retaliated.

'I had expected you would wish to fulfil the duties of a filial student, master Shikamaru.'

Shikamaru clenched his fists. 'I do not believe my reluctance to delay our journey to be un-filial. The inns here are remote and disquieting, and I wish for my mother to be settled at the capital at the earliest convenience.'

'Funny you should say that,' Neji folded his arms, 'I would have expected that with the Nara's wealth, you could afford more _creature comforts_ to put Lady Yoshino at ease.'

Shikamaru found himself refraining once again from the urge to punch Neji, fortunately Naruto stepped forward. 'You've both made valid arguments and used an excess of honorifics. How about this, Shikamaru has kept vigil for three nights at Nara, why don't we keep vigil for three more? Including the burial, it's more than seven days. We can leave on the fourth morning for the capital.'

Neji looked at Naruto. 'It would hardly seem like a compromise to me, Naruto-sama. But I will obey, as I am well of your superiority in stature and, unlike certain people, I respect the hierarchy.'

Shikamaru decided not to rise to the obvious jibe and instead considered the logistics of sneaking into the bushi's sleeping quarters and using the itching-powder that Ino had invented (which he still kept in his luggage) on Neji's bedroll.

He needed to get to the capital. He needed to be introduced into court so he could start talking to the right people and learning more of the truth behind Asuma-sensei's demise. Each day wasted meant losing more clues and more opportunity for the perpetrator who had orchestrated the whole cabal to get away. But Shikamaru recalled his father's sad eyes and his mother's restraint, and at the sight of Naruto's silent but insistent stare, he realised that to further push would just make the situation more difficult for everyone. He straightened, before bowing: 'Three days is acceptable. Thank you, Naruto.'

Neji gave him a look. 'I'll have my servants bring over some food, master Shikamaru. I'm afraid it won't nearly be up to your Nara standards, but one is supposed to —'

'I can fast, Neji-dono,' Shikamaru bit out. 'And I thank you for your concern about my endurance.'

Neji smirked. 'Fine,' he said, 'Suit yourself.'

Naruto looked between the two of them before he sighed. 'Do you wish to stay here Shikamaru? You can always come at sundown.'

Shikamaru swept his sleeves and bowed. 'I am good where I am, Naruto. Please take care of my mother for me.'

Upon hearing her name, Yoshino raised a hand, 'I am more than capable of taking care of myself, if we are to keep vigil for three more days, then I would like to keep Asuma-sama company on one of these nights. I'll let you know which night I decide to come, my son.' She said as she headed towards her carriage.

Neji's hair swept an arching stroke as he mounted his horse, 'In that case, take care, and see you in three days, master Shikamaru.'

Shikamaru kept his gaze on Neji as the latter rode off with the party, refusing to rise to his bait, and yet knowing that Neji had very successfully gotten under his skin.


	3. 1.2 Shikamaru

Chapter 2

To Shikamaru's surprise, Naruto did not join Yoshino and Neji to return to the inn.

'I'll stay with you, at least for today.' He said, kneeling down next to Shikamaru. 'Asuma was my saviour, and for the time I was in Nara he was my sensei as well. I owe him the respect.'

Shikamaru nodded, watching as Naruto lit a stick of incense and placed it upright in the rice bowl. 'You really have changed, Naruto.'

Naruto grinned as he sat back on his heels. 'I was wondering when you were going to drop the formality. Though it's quite unexpected, what's going on with you and Neji; I thought you usually don't bother with troublesome things such as pointless bickering.'

Shikamaru thought of the promise he made to find out the truth and gritted his teeth. 'These nobles from the capital rub me up the wrong way.'

Naruto laughed, 'I'm a 'noble from the capital' as well.'

'And so you are,' Shikamaru said, 'in that haori, and having the likes of Neji and my father bow to you—Lord Naruto, Lady Tsunade's heir and the lord of Namikaze, yet to me you are still that twig of a child who lived in the trees.'

Naruto stared at the ihai in front of him, the wisp of smoke emanating from the incense clouding his features. 'Had it not been for Asuma-sama, I wouldn't even be that, I think.'

Shikamaru swallowed, 'If you wouldn't mind me asking, how was it that you came to be one of these 'nobles from the palace’?'

Naruto raised his hands, 'Shikamaru, it's as you said, I'm no different from that 'twig boy' despite all those titles, I wouldn't mind any questions from you. Do you recall our first meeting? In Nara?'

'I do,' Shikamaru said. 'I doubt you would though, because you had been on the verge of death. The first time I saw you, you were surrounded by my father's medics. I couldn't work out why Asuma-sensei brought a corpse of a boy back from the capital.'

Naruto swallowed, 'I had been out in the wild for an unknown amount of time, alone by myself and surviving off of the forest. I had forgotten how to speak, or be civil around humans. It was Asuma who found me and took me away.'

Shikamaru studied the young lord in front of him, unable to reconcile the image of the scrawny kid from his memories.

* * *

He first saw Naruto when Asuma brought him to Nara more than six years ago: bone-thin, almost a whole head shorter than Ino, with ghoulish, unrealistically large and sunken eyes the strangest colour of summer-sky on the feverish face. Only his hair, golden like sunlight refracted on the ripples of the ocean, indicated any sign of life when he collapsed from Asuma's horse.

Asuma spent many days behind closed doors with his father and Choji's mother treating the boy, while the three of them—him, Ino, and Choji—tried to peer into the room obstructed by shoji which turned translucent from condensation.

Choji was convinced that his mother used the super-secret ginseng uncle Choza had been saving in the locked compartments in their pantry on him. Yoshino ushered them away for them to play elsewhere. Later that day after sundown Shikamaru had sneaked back, peered from the ceiling to see the boy strapped down, writhing, his thin face contorted by pain.

Shikamaru found himself unable to sleep that night. His brain was whirring faster than he could keep up, and not even the reciting of shogi matches could lull himself into drowsiness.

He knew something was amiss with the pale, stick-thin boy: more than undernourishment, more than neglect, or abuse, or any other expectant signs of suffering. The boy's presence disturbed Shikamaru, signalling to him that something primal and integral to the very fabric of reality was ripping at the seams, like fishnet snagged on a rock.

Shikamaru hated troublesome things such as this, but his brain had a tendency to latch onto them. And as a result, that evening after Naruto's arrival at Nara, Shikamaru tossed and turned amidst the night cries of insects until the sky paled outside the paper windows.

The next morning, he overslept and was awoken by panicked, rhythm-less steps.

The boy, unconscious and on the brink of death only hours ago, had escaped.

Shikamaru remembered trying to search for Naruto by himself but being caught by Asuma, who did not excuse him until he had completed his lessons and training. By the time he was done for the day, the sun was low. Shikamaru learnt that the guards had not tracked down the escaped boy, and knew, by instinct, or due to an entire night of overthinking, the exact position Naruto would be in the forest.

'They won't hurt you, the deer.' He said, after he located the scrawny blond hugging the branches of the particular oak tree, surrounded by oblivious yet intrusive herd. Shikamaru chased away the animals with bamboo clappers. The boy, somehow still clad in the rags he had turned up in despite Choji's mother changing him into Nara robes during his treatment, slid down from the tree feebly as the last visage of strength left his body.

Shikamaru produced a manjuu from his lapel. The boy grabbed it, scoffing it down, then hacking and coughing when he choked from the viciousness of his action.

Shikamaru set down a ceramic flask. He grinned when the other spluttered after taking a gulp and realising that the sweet and hot liquid inside was not water.

'Amazake.' Shikamaru explained, as the boy stared at him with snot running down his nose, looking much more wild than the deer he had been frightened by.

'Why did you run away?' Shikamaru asked. The boy's foreign appearance made Shikamaru question if he could even understand Shikamaru's words.

The boy wiped his face with the back of his forearm, eyeing the flask before taking another swig from it. '…not home.' He mumbled through a mouthful of the sweet drink. 'I didn't want to stay in someone else's house.'

Shikamaru tilted his head and studied the strange boy in front of him. 'Asuma-sensei brought you here. And any guest of Asuma-sensei is our guest. And now that I have met you, you're my guest as well.'

The boy shook his head, before he looked around the forest: 'That bamboo thing you have, do you think I can borrow it?'

Shikamaru smirked, 'You don't need it if you can do this.' and putting his fingers between his teeth he let out a shrill whistle that accompanied the cacophonous sound of hoofs scattering around them.

Naruto's light eyes widened to let in the deep verdure around them. 'Show me.'

Shikamaru shrugged, and did it again.

Naruto imitated, and made flatulent sounds with his mouth instead that cracked Shikamaru up. The two of them rolled around, laughing until they were out of breath.

Shikamaru shoved his hands beneath his head as he lied back, staring at the sky peeking through the canopy of lush trees.

'The forest belongs to the deer. Our family has been allowed to reside here by their sanction, instead of the other way around. If they accept your hospitality, then you don't have to stay in anyone else's house.'

Beside him, the blond boy, placing his hands upon his belly, and mimicking Shikamaru's gesture of staring at the sky, didn't seem to have heard him.

That autumn Shikamaru continued visiting the deer and Naruto in the forest, even bringing Choji and Ino along a few times. Slowly Naruto stopped greeting him from the trees, and instead slept amidst the deer herd, even the baby fawns who were growing into bulls seemed taken with him.

By the quiet first snowfall of that winter, Asuma had left with Naruto on his horse. And Shikamaru had stayed in Nara with his mother, staring at the snow-covered forest ground and the deer sheltering beneath heavy branches, his hands wrapped around a cup of steaming amazake that his absent forest-dwelling friend no longer needed.

* * *

The boy who had stayed in trees, who had leaves and deer-fluff in his hair, now knelt in front of Asuma-sensei's grave, palms together, thumbs against his forehead, his gestures as regal and courtly as any aristocrat of the courts. Despite his resplendent laughter, and the lack of secrets and darkness behind those pale eyes, his presence no longer evoked the same sense of peace like those afternoons spent among nature. What did this young lord's prominent presence mean for the state of the current bakufu, and how did it play into the death of his sensei? Shikamaru seized up in fear at the train of thought. Was Naruto one of the benefactors, one of the perpetrators, even, to eliminate Asuma, to discourage discussion of his wild past in front of those who now held him in respect?

The light of the day had disappeared by now and the gilded lettering on Asuma-sensei's ihai flickered as it caught the remaining light seeping in behind them. A thin sheen of soot already covered the varnished wood. His sensei's death still felt too raw, like the fact that his name was on the black lacquer was a sickly joke, and Asuma would soon enter the tombs and tell Shikamaru to laugh and loosen up, for it was a great prank that everyone, including his father, had been in on.

'Shikamaru,' Naruto finally said, after the long moment of silence. 'Asuma-sama, was he really that saddened by the exile? He lived with you guys, so you probably knew his mental state better than me. But when I saw him in the springtime when he was in the capital, he didn't seem like he was, like he wanted to—'

Shikamaru straightened. 'He was in the capital?' He asked, his body tensing. It seemed impossible that Asuma-sensei would violate the terms of his exile.

Naruto frowned, 'We chanced upon each other in the commercial area outside the gates, so technically he didn't set foot in the capital. He congratulated me on my new lordship and mentioned…' Naruto's face scrunched up as he tried to recall the details: 'He mentioned that the shogun was considering lifting his exile and soon he might be reinstated.'

Naruto lowered his head. 'I'm sorry if I sound disrespectful, but it doesn't sound like something a man considering taking his own life might say.'

Shikamaru felt a tightening in his throat and swallowed around it. 'It doesn't,' he said, slowly, 'because it wouldn't be something Asuma-sensei considered doing, ever.'

Naruto's eyes widened in shock at Shikamaru's reveal.

'The Asuma-sensei that I knew, up to the moment of his death, was not someone who would take his own life.'

Naruto was silent, studying Shikamaru as Shikamaru stared at the ihai, that, no matter how hard Shikamaru wished, was not a joke, but the hardened truth that Shikamaru felt weighed his stomach down into his gut.

Finally, Naruto responded: 'What are you saying, Shikamaru?'

'It was someone else.' Shikamaru felt the air around them suffocating with the redolent scent of the incense. 'I am certain. I do not know how they did it: how it was possible in our residence—where I myself had checked multiple times to ensure that there were no intruder and everyone inside the estate and even the village had been accounted for; in his room—locked from the inside, with no discernible sign of broken locks or forced entry; and at no apparent coercion since there was nothing indicated as such in all the correspondences I had examined all the way back to the beginning of the year.' Here, he kept his mouth shut about the letter his father had shown him, and continued, 'But I just know. I know Asuma-sensei's character, and I—' He gritted his teeth. 'I don't believe he took his own life. I have never been more certain about anything else.'

Naruto mulled over Shikamaru's words as Shikamaru recovered his breathing. He nodded after a pause: 'I believe you, Shikamaru.'

Shikamaru stared at Naruto, unprepared for Naruto's readiness to accept his assertion.

'You were always the smart one.' Naruto gave him a reassuring smile, 'And, though I'm mostly relying on my gut-feeling, what you're saying, it makes sense. I don't know if it's because I'm getting older and beginning to understand a lot of things I'd been blind to before, but it's a different world out there in the capital, the truth is rarely as simple as what it appears to be on the surface. And if someone really did murder Asuma-sama, I would like to find out as well, and bring them to justice.'

Shikamaru eased off his knees, 'Naruto, tell me how it was that you came to become the heir of Lady Tsunade. I was not aware that was something which could be appointed. Asuma-sensei, he said that the courts have become different from when he was a child, but I—I guess I didn't quite understand why he took you from Nara back to the capital. I thought you were just a boy he had rescued from starvation in the wilderness.'

Naruto frowned, easing off his knees as well. 'To be honest, I'm not certain myself. Ever since I could remember, I've been a ward to some household or another. Memories of my past are clouded by the different versions of stories told to me, and I'm not sure if there's even anyone who might know the story in its entirety. Before the confusion that was the months spent in the wilderness I had been a ward in the Uchiha compound.'

Shikamaru sat up straight. 'The roju-daimyo's household?'

Naruto nodded, 'I trained and studied with Sasuke, Lord Fugaku's second son, as we were the same age. We didn't always not get along, like now. But,' Naruto swallowed, 'after I overheard a conversation from the man who was both mine and Sasuke's sensei at that time stating that he could no longer train me as he needed to concentrate on Sasuke. I fled, and had no idea how Asuma-sensei came across me. Those days in the forest were extremely vague for me, mostly memories of hunger and hiding.'

Shikamaru frowned, 'Who was this sensei of yours? I did not know that you shared a mentor with Sasuke of Uchiha.'

Naruto's face dropped, and the shadows that marred those light eyes made them colourless and disquieting. 'He's a man of mystery. Of the few times I had seen him they've always been times of extreme turbulence in my life. The last time we parted, he departed for the north.'

Shikamaru frowned, 'So, the Uchiha, the respected clan of the current roju-daimyo, Lord Fugaku took you as their ward, only for you to run away. Then, an uncertain amount of time later, Asuma-sensei found you and took you to us, but then, he brought you back to Lord Fugaku's rival, Lady Tsunade?'

Naruto shook his head. 'I don't know why Lord Fugaku allowed it. But it was a hectic time: the heir to the Uchiha—Itachi—had died on an assignment. I ended up under the tutelage of Jiraiya-sama—Lady Tsunade's bushi. He taught me everything, from my swordsmanship to lessons on history and politics. When I reached the age of fourteen, Tsunade-baachan named me her heir and had me take on the title Namikaze after a residence she assigned to me in the capital. Tsunade-baachan told me that my father used to reside there, he was a bushi who apparently died in the fire of Saikyo.'

'Apparently?'

'I'm not sure myself, but my lineage was accepted by the lord shogun and endorsed by both roju-daimyo. I tried to talk to ero-sennin and Tsunade-baachan on numerous occasions, but they both told me that it was not their place to tell me, and that someday I would learn the truth from the right person. I had thought that maybe Asuma-sama would be able to tell me why he decided to save me, but…'

Naruto ran a hand through his hair, 'Ever since I could remember, no one had ever been forthright with me about the truth of my origins, too many secrets and tragedies marred my experiences. I owe my life to too many, and I don't know why they saved me.'

Shikamaru didn't say it out loud, but he understood—at least he understood why Asuma would save this mysterious ward of the Uchiha who later became the heir to Lady Tsunade. He recognised his teacher's vision within Naruto, the invisible force pushing this young lord to higher and more significant standing, who accepted those responsibilities and burdens with a smile instead of pain.

'You have such unique nicknames for the respected Lady Tsunade and the legendary bushi Jiraiya-sama.' Shikamaru mused, changing the subject.

Naruto grinned, 'I used to call you 'pineapple-head', remember?'

Shikamaru nodded, 'And you called Ino 'ponytail' and Choji, well, that one time you made a reference to his weight he almost killed you with a body-slam.'

Naruto blinked. 'I miss the deer, they really became my friends. Those days in that forest, they were perhaps the most care-free I had ever felt.'

In the candlelight, Shikamaru saw the ghosts of that happiness drift by like unattainable clouds. He got back onto his knees to once again face Asuma's gilded name on the black lacquer.

* * *

Naruto stayed with him until the morning. They had spent the night talking. When the servants came and delivered food for them, Shikamaru insisted that Naruto return to the inn and, after persuasion, Naruto agreed.

Through the talks Shikamaru learned of Naruto's circuitous past and the unique part he seemed to play in both the rivalry between the two roju-daimyo and representative of their cooperative effort(and by extension harmony of the entire court)—having been raised in both households for a period of his life. He was slightly disappointed but not surprised to find out that Naruto was no good with deciphering the more delicate dynamics of the politics and balance of power between the relevant parties—not even when it came to himself—what the nuanced implication was in his being an heir to Lady Tsunade and just what it meant for her clan.

He might be garbed in silk and be able to perform the necessary courtly gestures, but Shikamaru found that Naruto still retained that undiluted optimism he possessed when he was living with the deer. He saw most issues with a straightforward viewpoint, even on complicated subjects that would have kept Shikamaru up at night. Shikamaru wondered just how many courtiers would dismiss Naruto's frankness for his lack of proper education instead of seeing it for what it truly was: wisdom to willingly accept the circumstances that would have otherwise broken any soul for the plights he had undergone.

His mother came at sundown on the second day, brought offerings in the forms of fresh fruits and did not exchange any words outside of simple greetings for the duration of her stay. On the third morning she greeted Asuma in the form of three bows, before rising and leaving Shikamaru to the heat of the increasingly sweltering heat of the tomb. Shikamaru stared at the mandarins his mother had left behind, wondering if he peeled its waxy skin a rolled-up message would be wedged between the segments. It would not be outside of the realm of his parents' cryptic behaviour.

In the end, he settled for pushing them against the bowl of rice containing the incense and let them rot slowly in the heat, refusing to engage in speculation and wasting energy on what-ifs.

Naruto came each day after the first night, bringing Shikamaru food not dissimilar to the way Shikamaru had for him when Naruto stayed in the forest. He even managed to obtain amazake, which Shikamaru politely refused, quoting how out-of-etiquette it was to consume alcohol in a place of mourning.

Shikamaru made note that Neji did not once make an appearance, nor send any tribute or servants to pay his respect. Though this was to be expected from a bushi so closely trusted by the shogun, the blatant disrespect irked Shikamaru nonetheless, who paced around the ancestral shrines of the no-longer significant emperors whose names looked outdated and strange, almost foreign. Shikamaru pondered how Asuma-sensei might have felt about being laid to rest here, amongst the name of his family beyond which he was so determined to prove his capabilities. Or did he wish to bring glory and relevance to the royal line through his accomplishments?

Asuma-sensei rarely talked of his family outside the context of politics. He had recounted his own father's death at the fire of Saikyo with the removed nonchalance of a noh-actor reenacting an ancient, forgotten event of the past. But Shikamaru read the pain beneath the mask suppressing those emotions. And like Naruto, he had thought of asking Asuma questions about the past at a later moment. All of them had been deceived into thinking that there was going to be more time.

Was this what growing up felt like, the forced acknowledgement and acceptance of missed opportunities slipping past, like water slipping past pebbles, the consistent regret of there never being enough time?

Shikamaru pondered the question as he stretched his body in the morning sun upon the completion of the duties he had been pressured into performing. The plains in front of the mound were secluded and overgrown, with weeds that were rich in late-summer seedlings. The tombs untended to, despite the fact that the royal family was supposed to be revered as the rulers of the land, and the shogun merely their regent.

He was getting ready to go back to the inn when he remembered his mother's fruits, and deciding perhaps they did hold some significance after all, went back in to retrieve them.

The tomb was not empty. A figure in white knelt in front of Asuma's ihai, and upon the sound of Shikamaru's steps she turned around.

A woman, covered in a shroud, turned her foreign-looking face and stared at Shikamaru cautiously. Shikamaru felt his heart seize up at the sight of her blood-red eyes.

She had the most unusual attire. As opposed to the conservative robes his mother wore in various shades of grey, or the colourful and exuberant silks Ino liked to down, she was wearing a red robe tucked inside white, wide-legged hakama with a black trim—an outfit that reminded Shikamaru of what the priests at a temple might wear, save for the striking colours. A shroud made of rough, loosely-woven linen covered her hair though some unruly curled strands still escaped from the edges. Her blood-coloured eyes reminded Shikamaru of the myths of malevolent spirits which haunt the mountains and the Nara forests. For a moment Shikamaru wondered if she was a ghost, or a yokai, instead of an actual human.

'Who—'

Shikamaru opened his mouth when the woman stood up, the heaviness of her gait erased Shikamaru's presumption of her being a supernatural manifestation, because her distended belly made it obvious that she was not only living—but pregnant. Dumbfounded, Shikamaru couldn't react until after the woman pushed past him and left the tomb, leaving Shikamaru nailed to the ground.

Shikamaru studied the spot upon where she had knelt, and couldn't decipher her trace among the already disturbed dust upon the ground from his own presence and the various activities in the past few days. And when he looked up, he felt his entire body go cold.

There was an origami ship placed upon the tray of citrus.

Shikamaru rubbed his eyes, wondering if he had inhaled too much incense to be hallucinating the strange appearance of the woman, and a previously forgotten detail slammed into him when he reached for the origami and felt its firm folded edge against his fingertip, sending a full-body shudder down his body as the back of his robe became instantly drenched in cold sweat.

_'…Separated from my beloved and unable to see the birth of my child…_

… _when I tell them of the ships beyond the horizon…'_

Those words, which Shikamaru had assumed were mere attempts to frame his family for unsubstantiated crimes, those baseless claims in that letter whose intent had been so evidently sinister, that Shikamaru had dismissed to be merely incendiary only a few days ago, did it contain certain truths previously unknown to him? Could it be possible that this strange woman was indeed Asuma-sensei's mysterious lover, and that she was in fact carrying Asuma-sensei's child?

Shikamaru unfolded the origami holding his breath, and the sight of the white unmarked square brought no sense of relief from him.

If those claims were indeed true, why did she only appear now? After all this time, after Asuma-sensei had been in the isle for months, and news of his death had already spread through the land? Why was she conveniently present at this instance, days after the company from the capital had arrived at Saikyo, right as Shikamaru was about the leave?

Shikamaru turned the piece of paper over several times, examining each corner, each edge, each fold, held it up to incense, flicked water upon it, even splashed it with squeezed citrus juice. No invisible ink was activated nor did any hidden message appear due to his manoeuvring. He pocketed the paper after returning it to its original shape of an origami ship.

He stared at the boat, his mind entangled in thoughts until he realised that he had lost track of the woman, and ran out of the chamber. But the confusion did not subside as he inhaled the fresh outside air. Instead, the sky spun above him, the brightness of the afternoon temporarily blinding him.

The woman was gone. The shadows played amidst the tall weeds grown over the slopes of the surrounding hills. Shikamaru shielded his eyes from the sunlight. There was no trace of footprints, or deformed grass, to indicate that another had walked these grounds.

Who was she, why was she here, and where did she go?

She didn't look like someone whom Asuma-sensei might be inclined to start a family with. From her priest-like outfit, she didn't look like someone who was likely to form a family with anyone. Yet, there she was, for the brief moment when Shikamaru saw her, with a distended belly, and red-eyes, and a linen shroud—an attire only worn by those who mourn their closest kin.

Shikamaru shuddered, he didn't know if he was hallucinating the worst possible outcome due to the stressful few days and the general terrible circulation within the tombs, or if reality was playing a trick on him and overloading him with information and subsequently opening up to too many possibilities.

Assuming that he hadn't just had a spell of dizziness and conjured that woman up in his fervour, then parts of the claims laid out in the letter would be true. What else in that letter other than the reality of Asuma-sensei's family was more accurate than he previously assumed? And who could've known these secrets, and penned that letter?

He grabbed the loose sleeves of his robes and wrapped them around himself, feeling like all the heat had been sapped from his body.

His father had burned the letter right in front of him. What if—what if this investigation lead to that possibility, that it was his _father_ who—

Shikamaru shook his head. No, his mother and father had always made Shikamaru jump through hoops to decipher their words, but they've never been the kind to murder their own friend in their own house. Surely it was more detrimental to them to have their estate be the scene of the death? And what benefit would it be for them to have Shikamaru, their own son, investigate these crimes? Ino had told Shikamaru to look for the benefactors, to look for the dynamics in power, when something appears to seemingly have no explanation. And there was no possible benefit to his parents for setting him on this path or having such obvious ties to Asuma-sensei's death.

If the culprit wasn't his parents, then who was the person who decided to divulge these accusative half-truths and denigrating lies and tie it to Asuma-sensei's death? What was their intent in posting the letter to the capital? Were they the same people who facilitated such tragedy, or just ones who were looking to benefit from partial knowledge of secrets?

Overwhelmed with questions, Shikamaru felt his knees give out as he crouched down then sat on the ledge at the base of the wall to the entrance of the chamber, and, unable to sort through the chaos in his mind, he clutched his head.

Shikamaru ended up scanning the grounds of the royal tombs and the hills surrounding it until sundown, but could not spot a single person or tracks left behind by anyone outside of the main routes at the entrance of the chamber where he had kept vigil for the past three days. The servants, who had arrived shortly after the red-eyed lady's disappearance, waited for him at the entrance of the tombs patiently as Shikamaru made rounds and rounds around the area. They made no comment of his maddened actions.

Upon the sky dimming, one of the servants bowed: 'Young master, we should start on our journey to return, Lady Yoshino would be expecting for you to join her for dinner.'

Shikamaru, who was sitting at the same place staring at the sun edging closer and closer to the horizon for quite a while, having run out of ideas on how to track down the woman who had all but disappeared, shook his head to clear his mind.

Time was running out for him, both here at the tombs as well as at the capital. Twin trails of clues becoming more obscure with each passing moment. Shikamaru frowned, outside of the letter which he no longer possessed, a small origami ship of no distinguishing aspects, and the presence of the woman there was nothing here for him. The well-excavated tombs had no secret chambers or meandering, deep caverns to explore. Weighing up the options, it made no sense to continue searching, when there were so many other things to ask in the capital, so many other uncertainties. Especially with the additional information that cast doubt on previously unquestioned matters.

He mounted his horse, and rode slowly towards the commercial settlement, until, in the distance, the darkened city rose like thorns against the setting sun, and the tombs behind him were merely a sloping mound overgrown with grass.

He was still considering if organising a search party to canvas the surrounding areas of the tombs to try and locate the woman was too much effort and time (it was just as likely that she had left the area by now) when he came across a gathering outside a small cluster of shabby housing that's typical of dwelling for locals who serviced the travellers. As he drew nearer, he made out Neji's dark hair silken and protruding from the crowd at least half-a-head shorter than him. Despite the dimming sunlight, Neji's pristine robe starkly contrasted amongst the drabs that the peasants covered themselves with that could barely be counted as clothing.

Shikamaru dismounted and handed the reins to his servant, dismissing them with instructions for them to lead his horse back to the inn. He approached the congregation on foot, and saw that an elderly man, clad in short robe and trousers made of the roughest material which did not cover his scuffed knee, with wrinkled head topped by wispy white hair which was gathered into a meagre top-knot, knelt by Neji's feet, clutching onto the tail of Neji's robe. His grubby hands dirtying the white fabric with soot.

'Please, Bushi-sama,' The old man was saying, 'have mercy, please.'

Neji, whose eyebrows were furrowed and entire face twisted in grimace, was clearly restraining himself from kicking the peasant away. Shikamaru paused and did not come forward from the crowd. Instead, he stood a few paces away, allowed several onlookers to screen him from Neji's view, and observed.

'I am in no authority to attend to your affairs.' Neji said, his voice strained with barely-held agitation. 'You should appeal to the daimyo of your land if you have need of such requests.'

'No daimyo governs this region, Bushi-sama. Local matters are settled by representatives appointed by the shogun and none had come by with prestige as honourable as yours.'

Neji's shoulders tensed visibly. After a while, he let out a deliberate slowed breath. 'You are mistaken.' He said, 'I am not appointed to be in charge of enforcing the order of this place.'

The man prostrated to the ground, his entire face mashed into the dirt. 'Please, oh great Bushi-sama, you must have a medic in your company. My son is on the brink of death, please save his life.'

His robe having been released from the man's grasp, Neji turned with an expression of barely suppressed repulsion. The crowd parted as he marched off.

Shikamaru stepped out, stopping in front of him. Neji, startled, swayed backwards, almost like he was going to falter, but at the last moment he steadied himself, and glared at Shikamaru.

'Master Shikamaru,' Neji said, 'I see you have been prompt to return as soon as you are relieved of your filial duties.'

Shikamaru shoved one of his arms within the lapel of the kimono. 'I see Neji-dono seems to be okay with blatantly refusing to answer to yours, or am I wrong in assuming that the code does not include a duty to assist those in need?'

Neji's already pale face seemed to lose even more colour. 'Do not speak of what you do not understand, master Shikamaru. That man over there,' He gestured at the old man still prostrated upon the ground, 'his request is not only unreasonable but by helping him I would also be disrespecting the law of the land.'

'Is a father caring for his son an act against the law, Neji-dono?' Shikamaru asked, 'Unlike you, I, who had been pondering the necessities of filial piety for the last three days in front of my sensei's shrine, am sensitive to a father's desire to save his son.' He started brushing past Neji's shoulder to reach the old man when Neji stopped him with a grasp on his arm.

'Master Shikamaru,' Shikamaru turned to see that the bushi's face had hardened, 'This man asks for help to save his son, but his son had explicitly broken the law, that which forbids entering into the burnt-city.'

Shikamaru looked down at Neji's hand on his arm, before looking back at Neji. 'The life of a criminal is still one raised by a parent, and to that parent their life is still priceless. Not to mention, his crimes are yet to be determined.' He held Neji's gaze, refusing to push Neji away nor relent to his hold.

'The envoy is under my protection until we reach the capital,' Neji did not rise to the bait and held Shikamaru's gaze, as he said tight-lipped, 'and I would not see anyone in it, including yourself, be exposed to harm under my watch.'

'So not only are you choosing to ignore the code of honour,' Shikamaru goaded, 'You're also expressly forbidding me from doing so? Under the excuse that you're doing this for my safety?'

Neji's entire shoulder was visibly shaking in restraint but his hand on Shikamaru's arm was still civil despite its obstinacy, as he chose not to respond.

Shikamaru felt a droplet of sweat run down from his temples along his skin, and the ghostly image of the woman with red eyes made his stomach flutter then clench up inside him. He pried Neji's fingers away from his arm, 'I am grateful for your concern, master Neji, your sense of duty is commendable. But I do not need anyone's protection.'

Neji froze, his fingers extended, then clenched, as if it were itching to close around the hilt of a weapon, after a moment, he said: 'This is more than your prejudice against me, master Shikamaru. The old-capital is off-limits on instruction from the shogun himself not because of some obscure reason, but because the stability of the land rests on adherence to those rules.' He looked towards the walls in the distance. 'The land within that enclosure is cursed, and those who defy those rules and try to access the land do it due to greed, for looting is common and profitable. But without exception, they always bring the curse with them.'

Shikamaru grinned, 'It's interesting that an informed bushi from such an honourable house of within the capital such as yourself believe in something as aged and superstitious as a curse.'

Neji glared at him, 'Do not make light of the situation, master Shikamaru, the curse is very real. If you do not believe it to be true, then allow me to show you myself what has actually become of this peasant's son.'

Shikamaru bit the inside of his cheek, before extending a hand: 'Lead the way.'

The thatched roof was made of straw and even at its tallest point still brushed the tip of Shikamaru's ponytail. Neji, whose shoulders were folded into his chest due to the lack of space within the confined dwelling, indicate at the bed, where a slight lump nestled between two pieces of old and fraying woven bamboo mats that Shikamaru hesitated to call tatami.

The man's face was blue. At first he thought it might be the poor lighting, or the damp air interfering with his vision, or even just an excess of mildew that had transferred from the decrepit mat onto the living being it covered, but it was none of those things. Blue-grey, like the ocean in a day without sunlight. He was panting, but little breath seemed to enter or leave from his mouth. The rise and lowering of his chest could have been mistaken to be just the breeze that penetrated the crevices within the thatched roofing disturbing the frayed mat covering him.

Shikamaru felt sick, he now understood what Neji meant regarding the curse. The man's eyes were honey-coloured, pale—drained just like his blue skin. The flesh beneath the ill-coloured skin sagged until the angle of his cheekbones were pronounced by the surrounding deep shadows that didn't look like it belonged on a face with flesh. As Shikamaru examined closer, he noted that the man laid upon the cot struggling to grasp onto the life of which he had barely occupied enough years to be called as such. Still a youth—of whom the deformation to his face made him look much older indeed.

His mouth was moving, Shikamaru leaned closer to listen.

'I saw, soldiers.' Shikamaru paled when he managed to decipher the quavering words.

'What kind of soldiers?' Shikamaru asked. He wasn't really expecting an answer, as the youth's eyes rolled upwards into his eyelids as he appeared not to be in control of them, but the other responded.

'Glorious soldiers, on a ship.'

Shikamaru felt his heart seize up. 'A ship?'

'A ship in the sky. At its helm, death itself.'

The rambling of someone this afflicted should not make sense. Yet, to Shikamaru he couldn't stop listening. The youth turned his deformed face, still unable to focus his eyes, and he suddenly grabbed Shikamaru's collar. Behind him, Shikamaru heard Neji's visible intake of breath.

'Red, red, red, red, red, red.' The youth repeated, his saliva foaming at his mouth, each word growing more frantic as Shikamaru pried at the deathly strong grip but unwilling to lean away lest he missed a word.

'Red what?' Shikamaru asked, knowing on some level the exact response his question would render.

'Red, red red red red red' Those pale eyes were rolling around wildly in his sockets, and a horrendous smell permeated from the body, as his movements became erratic. 'Redredredredredred—'

'Red what?!' Shikamaru demanded, as a firm hand grabbed his own and flung it aside.

Neji's long elegant fingers made quick work of ridding the twig-like ones tangled in Shikamaru's lapel, and pulling Shikamaru back, as Shikamaru fought to lean closer.

'Red what?' Shikamaru repeated his question. But the litany of despairing speech had stopped. The youth's eyes stopped oscillating, and focused on the ceiling, where a hole in the straw let in a frosty beam of moonlight. His twig-like hands curled into themselves after Neji had freed Shikamaru's clothing from their grasp. The digits froze in mid-movement, in the mildew-infested air which no longer entered the body, that was now also pervaded by the unbearable stench of death.

The youth spoke no more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all of you who have left kudos and comments! ILYSM!!! 
> 
> Please let me know of any imperfections you notice, this story is kind of like a 'first edition publication' kind of thing since I haven't worked out all the details yet (there's simply too many moving parts). I'll let you guys know when major revisions occur.


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